Spark Rising by Kate Corcino
Chapter 1
“Nothing says ‘Home, Sweet Home’ like an abandoned gas station.”
The words came with a muffled snort from one of the two men following Lena. He probably hadn’t meant for her to hear them—probably—but the rich, husky tone of his voice carried them to her.
Lena rolled her eyes, her back still to the client and his assistant. “Does my home offend you, Mr. Reyes?” She kept her tone even and pleasant. It took effort. A lot of effort.
“No, no,” he answered from behind her. “I’m just trying to understand what would make someone see this place and say, ‘Now this…this is the place I want to call home.’” He paused. “Miss Gracey,” he added, mimicking her formality.
She could hear his amusement. It was nothing she hadn’t heard from other clients before. As far as she was concerned, he could keep trying. She highly doubted he’d get it.
When she’d arrived at the ancient gas station nine years before, she’d been fifteen and full of rage, fear, and pride over making her escape from a life of hiding in the city. The empty building still stood firm against the onslaught of the world. Buckled, collapsed pavement at the far end of the lot showed where the tanks below ground had ignited during the cataclysm two centuries before. The void was filled with sand pushed by the wind—a shifting, fatal trap for the unwary. A tumbleweed bounced across the rubble of the road, smashing against teetering pump fourteen, shedding thorns and seeds as it rolled off again.
The desolation was a reflection of Lena’s grief. She’d staked her claim on the station and carved her home out of drifted sand and weeds. She didn’t expect those who lived in the comfort of a relocity—surrounded by people and walls to keep the world at bay—to understand why it mattered to claim a corner of the wild as hers alone. The cities that had grown out of the post-disaster relocation centers were the last hope of those clinging to the old ways. They were willing to give up a lot to live in safety. She knew safety was relative.
Now her client, and the assistant who’d powered the electric vehicle to get him out here, sized her home up as they followed her inside. The visual examination of the home she’d built for herself, the life alone, was typical of every client, every time.
This time the examination, and the judgment it implied, rankled. She spun around, mouth opened to snap at them.
She stopped. Alejandro Reyes had removed his antique sunglasses, and his dark eyes were focused on her. She tried to escape the intensity of them by looking down, but that was a mistake. Instead of a heated gaze, she caught his wide-chested, lean-hipped body as he slid closer to her like one of the big cats of the desert, stalking prey.
He’s not a hunter, Lena. Just another indolent client looking for a black market charge to make his easy life easier.
She cleared her throat, turning to his assistant. The other man, Lucas, was busy inspecting every detail of her home. She doubted Reyes’s attention had ever left her back. It certainly didn’t leave her face now that she had turned to the other man. She could feel his focus still, the itch of attention that always made her self-conscious. He wasn’t interested in the room.
“Where’d you get the light bulbs?”
They were a luxury item, rarely seen outside of Council buildings, but she wasn’t fooled. He was studying her, not her fixtures.
She shrugged. “I barter for everything.” She considered him for a moment, gauging the risk he presented. He didn’t seem threatening, merely interested, and Lena didn’t sleep with her clients, no matter how hot they were. She held out her hand. “May I have the item, please?”
Reyes had to snap his fingers at Lucas to get his attention. She’d dismissed the Spark assistant as soon as she’d seen his energy bloom, the faint displacement like a heat shimmer that other Sparks could see. The brightness indicated the inherent power of a Spark and showed up the moment the mental power was accessed. Typically, the bloom would grow as a Spark worked with the Dust to create the electrical energy that was otherwise dead to the world.
The assistant’s bloom was unimpressive, probably the reason his boss had to seek out black market charges from people like her. It was also the likely reason for his slack jaw as he noted the energy signature on all of the modifications she and the Dust had made to nearly every item in her home.
Lucas crossed to Reyes and handed him a small, cloth-wrapped package. Reyes held it up, delaying giving it to her.